


Mischief at 221B

by LaufeysonChild



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sherlock (TV), The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-12 16:50:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/813806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaufeysonChild/pseuds/LaufeysonChild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The agents of S.H.I.E.L.D seem to have lost their hold on infamous god of mischief Loki, forced to ask everyone's favourite consulting detective Sherlock Holmes for his assistance in finding and understanding the Jotun. Little does anyone predict how much of a liking the two take to one another, however twisted and strange their impending relationship may be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Consultation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ColorThroughMyEyes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorThroughMyEyes/gifts).



It had been a very long, nondescript week for the consulting detective and his dearest blogger. Not much had gone on in the way of case work, and there wasn't source for any general sort of excitement, so the dear little sociopath was was bored out of his mind, as per usual when confronted with a lack of stimulation. He had solved two elementary mysteries for the Yard in as many days, blown through five separate experiments (three of them involving unconventional body parts, much to John’s dismay), successfully carved several inconsequential and irrelevant equations into his door, practically turned the place upside down in search of the spare carton of cigarettes John wouldn't let him have, and he was left sitting in the flat, surrounded in cold case files, plucking frantically at his violin as his eyes darted over the pages all around him. He was pacing impatiently, periodically glaring at his flatmate. 

“Sit down, Sherlock,” John said, not bothering to look up from his laptop screen. He had been watching after Sherlock all week, of course, just keeping an eye on him, making sure he didn’t do anything too dire in his boredom, as he had the penchant for doing. “Something will come up,” he assured half-heartedly, an empty response he was accustomed to giving when Sherlock reached the point of annoying impatience.

Sherlock glared at him again. “Give me your computer,” he replied, pointing at the machine with his bow “I need-”

“I checked it,” John cut off, already knowing what Sherlock was intending to do. The man had checked his blog no less than fifteen times that week, and his desire to do so on a frequent basis was more than predictable. “There’s nothing. No new requests, or leads, or even suggestions on your site. So sit. Drink some tea. Sleep. Just calm down, yeah?”   
“Calm down?” Sherlock barked, halting his little half-melodic chromatics, turning to face John rather confrontationally. “John, don’t-” 

He was cut off again, though instead by Mrs. Hudson’s sudden appearance in the room. “You have visitors, dearies,” she hummed, completely disregarding Sherlock’s erratic behaviours. “Just came to warn you. They’re on their way up. It’s Mr. Lestrade and...friends.” 

“Ah, Lestrade!” Sherlock proclaimed excitedly, a smile on his face. He put his violin away beside his chair and arranged himself on the sofa, gazing out the window, looking as though he was either deep in thought or entirely disinterested. He appeared as though he was not at all frantic to alleviate his boredom, though that couldn't be farther from the truth. 

“Send them in,” he muttered with a wave to Mrs. Hudson once he was settled to his satisfaction in his usual spot on the couch.

John rolled his eyes at Sherlock’s melodrama as he respectfully and politely closed his laptop, setting the machine aside so he could give his attention to their guests.  
“Not your housekeeper, dear, they’re already...look, they’re already up!” she informed as she turned to see the men.

They entered the sitting room, Lestrade leading with his unidentified guests trailing behind him. First following Gregory was a tall, intimidating looking man, an eye patch occupying one side of his face, clad entirely in black and mostly in leather, looking very out of place both in the flat and in the city. Behind him was a somewhat goofy looking man, his attire very official, very unassuming, with dark sunglasses and a forced air of secrecy. They had both a laxness and professionalism, as well as a certain air about them, that made it clear that they were American.

“John,” Lestrade said with a nod of greeting in the man’s direction, the doctor in response standing to shake the man’s hand. “Sherlock, there’s someone here to see you. A consultation of sorts. This is-” he began, but he was cut off by Sherlock interjecting.

“S.H.I.E.L.D, are we?” Sherlock asked with an air of nonchalance with barely a glance spared in the strangers’ direction. 

John furrowed his brow, looking over the men for any identifying features that he may have somehow overlooked when first taking in their appearances. “What?” the doctor asked, turning to Sherlock. 

“S.H.I.E.L.D, John. A government agency. Though the acronym has been subjected to various changes over the years, I believe currently it’s representative of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. An American-based organisation, home to the newly infamous Avengers Initiative, those responsible for the success in the recent extraterrestrial Manhattan endeavour,” Sherlock explained in an indifferent monotone. “Curious that the two of you have found your way to Baker street. The heroes failed you, have they, director Fury?” he asked in a lightly patronising and sarcastic tone, turning slightly to fearlessly gaze straight up at the taller man. 

“I told you, like Stark without the jokes,” the shorter man muttered to the taller, seeming to marvel at Sherlock’s demeanour.

“Can it, Coulson,” Fury muttered. “Sherlock Holmes,” Nick Fury said, ignoring the comments being made to him. “No point in asking for your help then, is there?” 

“No, there isn't,” John cut in, “because he’ll take whatever case you’re offering.”

“You don’t know that, John,” Sherlock protested pointedly.

“Yes, I do. You’re taking it,” John retorted sternly, to which Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed loudly.

“Specifics,” he said tersely, returning his indifferent gaze to watch the weather outside the window as he listened.

“We need your help primarily locating and understanding Loki. It has come to our attention that he had escaped his Asgardian prison and has taken up residency back here on Earth. We need to know his intentions, his whereabouts, his thoughts, what he’s wearing, his favourite colour, everything you can possibly find. Your reputation has led us to believe you’re the man for the job,” Fury explained. 

“Loki Laufeyson, Norse God of Mischief. Son to Jotun Laufey, queen of the realm of Jotunheim, the realm belonging to those so aptly named Jotuns, but more colloquially called Frost Giants. Blood brother to the All-father Odin, in original texts, of course, uncle to Thor,” Sherlock rattled off, standing and moving closer to the window, gesturing as he spoke at an almost indiscernible pace. “Many a whimsical tale told about the deviant god, the misplaced Jotun, most famous of them being those of his mistakes. The unsung stories are those of his great accomplishments, but no one’s interested in those, why would they be? An mischievous and evil god is far preferable to a misunderstood and tragic one. He’s a shapeshifter, well known fact, and has been known to cause trouble in other forms. Children: six. He is father to serpent Jormungandr, gargantuan wolf Fenrir, half-living, half-dead ruler of the realm of the dead, Hel, and siblings Narfi and Vali, the latter of whom responsible for the death of the former. He is, oddly enough, the mother to the eight-legged stallion Sleipnir, most famous of his children. But, of course, this is not the Loki of which you speak.”

Fury shook his head, completely unamused and unimpressed by the amount of information Sherlock had apparently amassed on the subject and even less amused by the rate at which he prattled. Of course, John was sitting in the corner of the room in his chair, slack-jawed and awestruck as usual when Sherlock threw into one of his over-informed rants. Coulson had his brow furrowed in confusion, still trying to work out the whole ‘mother of Sleipnir’ thing.

“Of course not,” Sherlock said with a little smile. “No, you speak of the Loki upon whom the myths are based. Loki, the god among us, Loki, the terror of Manhattan, destroyer of a small New Mexico town. Childless Loki, raised not as Odin’s brother but rather his son, brother instead to Thor. Loki who, I presume, you suspect has taken a liking to the urbanised London area, conveniently enough.” 

“Are you going to help or not, Holmes?” Fury asked impatiently, getting a little sick of Sherlock’s perpetual rattle of useless information. It might be a source of entertainment to some, but Fury was not thoroughly amused and had no patience for it. 

“Good choice, God of Mischief,” Sherlock muttered to himself, paying no attention to the guests in the room.

“He’ll help,” John answered. 

“Good. You’ll be briefed in the morning,” Fury informed.

“Briefed,” Sherlock scoffed, shaking his head in amusement and flopping back down onto the couch. “I think you’ll find that unnecessary. We’ll be in touch.” And he waved his visitors off, no longer listening to what they had to say. He had heard enough.

Fury’s jaw set. He was clearly growing less and less enthused about working with the man, but they were left with no choice. He drew in a breath as though to say something, possibly to shout, but Coulson put a hand on his shoulder, gesturing for the door.

Without another word, Fury turned on his heel and left with Coulson in tow, following close behind him.

“You sure do know a lot about Loki,” John mused after the two men were out the door and out of earshot.

“Of course,” Sherlock agreed, as though the fact was common knowledge and to be expected. 

John waited for Sherlock to explain himself and his textbook information on the Norse god, sighing and rolling his eyes when no such explanation came. “And why might that be?” he inquired after a while.

Sherlock had the audacity to give an exasperated sigh before he began his explanation. “As a child, I did a lot of reading. Children’s stories were always so boring, too predictable, too tedious. So I took to mythology for my bedtime stories. The adventures of the Norse gods of Asgard were clearly my favourite tales.” 

“That doesn't explain how you know about the...what was it, Avengers? And what happened in Manhattan,” John said. 

“You’re the one who’s always watching the news, how did you not know what went on?” Sherlock retorted with the quirk of an eyebrow. “It’s been broadcast all over BBC World News since the event occurred, it’s common knowledge by now. 

John rolled his eyes once more as he turned to resume typing on his laptop, giving the world notice that it could calm down, it’s alright, everyone’s safe, Sherlock found a case.

“Are you excited?” he asked as he typed.

“Very,” Sherlock answered without a second thought, a broad grin stretching across his face as he lifted his violin to his chin, a happy melody filling the room.


	2. The Blog of Doctor John H. Watson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John tells of the days leading up to the day Sherlock finds Loki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it might be fun to progress the story via John's blog, and it actually made things go much faster. The next chapter will be all Sherlock and Loki interactions. Yay!

**He found a case!**

_**2nd August 2013** _

 

The world can breathe, he's found a case. The boredom will end. No more experiments, no more wondering if he'll blow up the flat, no more worrying he's got a needle in his arm when he's locked in his room. It's okay now. He found a case.

Details to come.

  
  
  
  
  


**This one's different**

_**3rd August 2013** _

 

Wow. So, I thought that this would just be another case that Sherlock does to cure boredom, but apparently not. I can't actually tell you what he's doing, it's sort of...secretive, but he's trying to find someone. We'll call it a missing persons case. But he's getting more into this case than I've seen him in a long while. It's almost like he has some sort of emotional attachment to it. Or, it would seem that way if I didn't know him better. It's so strange, though. I think I should be concerned.

 

_New comment on_ This one's different

**Sherlock Holmes** : John, shut up.

  
  
  
  
  


**The Sleepless Week**

_**10th August 2013** _

 

As you might have guessed, he hasn't been sleeping. For an. Entire. Week. And I'd be fine with that if he was bloody quiet about it, but no. Oh, you should hear the compositions. All originals, I might add. He's composing for this...person. I can't work out why. They don't sound like happy compositions, either. They're angry. Angry and fast and not fun to listen to at three in the morning.

I might kill him.

I might just kill him.

  
  
  
  
  


**He's getting obsessive**

_**12th August 2013** _

 

The way Sherlock's acting on his new 'hide and seek' case was making his usual demeanour seem peachy and polite. He's hit an all time low with his reclusiveness. In fact, I don't think I've ever seen less of him in my years as his flatmate. Not yet sure whether that's a good thing or a bad thing. Now, there have been a fair share of cases I couldn't help with due to scheduling conflicts, but this is the first that Sherlock outright refuses to let me help him on. He's spending all his time stuffed up in his room, and I suspect he's crawling out the window when he needs to leave. That can't be healthy. He just seems so asphyxiated with this person he's out to find. It's almost as though he doesn't have to find him, he wants to find him. Less like finding a criminal and more like finding an old friend.

God help us all if he actually gets to meet this guy.

As always, I'll keep you updated.

 

_New comment on_ He's getting obsessive

**Sherlock Holmes** : John, this isn't your case, stop updating people on it.

**John Watson** : What's so wrong with keeping people in the loop? Lots of people find it interesting.

**Sherlock Holmes** : I say again, IT IS NOT YOUR CASE.

  
  
  
  
  


**Today's the day**

_**14th August 2013** _

 

Yep, that's it. Today's the day, the big day. He thinks he's figured out where to find this person and he's left to go down to the location. Joy. He's excited about it, naturally, but I'm worried. It isn't as though this person is all kittens and cuddles. He's dangerous. Very dangerous. So you can imagine my discomfort in this. Sherlock won't let me or anyone else go with him. He's insistent on going alone. He's not even telling the people he's working for, says he's going to tell them afterwards.

Let's just pray he doesn't get himself killed this time.

I'll let you know if he does.


End file.
